Eye Contact
by sunisrisingonawinchester
Summary: A Destiel poem. If I write more, I'll post them with this one. This is where my Destiel is going.
1. Eye Contact

When sky blue eyes meet bottle green,  
>When hearts stop,<br>And breaths mingle between.  
>When words remains unsaid,<br>And all others are unseen,  
>Meet the eyes of Righteous man,<br>And the Man who would be King.

When sky blue eyes meet bottle green,  
>When planets stop,<br>With a shuddering keen.  
>Monsters are given pause,<br>Just before they flee,  
>When the Angel of Thursday,<br>Locks eyes with Dean.

When sky blue eyes meet bottle green,  
>And worlds are saved,<br>By this deadly team,  
>With souls that shine,<br>With a beautiful sheen.  
>This is what happens,<br>When blue eyes meet green.

When sky blue eyes meet bottle green,  
>Through dangers unnumbered,<br>And trials unseen,  
>Through fire, brimstone,<br>Through ice and between,  
>Through Heaven and Hell,<br>When blue eyes meet green.

When sky blue eyes meet bottle green,  
>And battles are fought,<br>And won for humanity.  
>Trials are fought and overcome,<br>And the future is seen.  
>Heroes are made,<br>When blue eyes meet green.

When sky blue eyes meet bottle green,  
>And monsters destroy,<br>With a vicious scream,  
>Heroes will die,<br>While children dream,  
>The world isn't saved,<br>When blue eyes meet green.

When sky blue eyes meet bottle green,  
>And tears are shed,<br>With a heartbroken keen.  
>And eyes close once more,<br>On sights they've seen.  
>This is how death goes,<br>When blue eyes meet green.

When sky blue eyes meet bottle green,  
>And one world has ended,<br>To the sound of a heart's ping,  
>When hope is lost,<br>Along with a dream,  
>This is how a heart dies,<br>When blue eyes meet black.


	2. The Devil's Angel Food Cake

**The Devil's Angel Food Cake**

**A/N: Destiel fluff! Thanks to Keely for the request and idea. I was so excited about this one. Set beginning of Season 10.**

* * *

><p>Castiel hears the familiar rumble of the Impala's engine outside a crappy motel. He stumbles to the door with a racking cough.<p>

Dean is at the door when he opens it.

"Hey, Cas," Dean smirks.

"Hello, De-" Cas' greeting is interrupted by another series of coughs that shake his whole body.

"Cas?" Dean asks, catching Castiel's arm and supporting him.

"I-I'm f-fi-fine," Cas says between coughs. Dean leads him into the crappy motel room and forces him onto the couch. He waits until Cas stops coughing.

"Your Grace is almost gone," Dean observes.

"It's under control," Cas replies weakly.

"Liar. You're dying."

"I'm not dying, you ass," Cas says, rolling his eyes. "I'm just sick."

"Angels don't get sick."

"How's your soul, Dean?"

"Don't make this about me. I'm here to take care of you."

"I- I- don't" Cas' protest is cut off with a cough.

"Yep. You're getting some rest. Come on," Dean tells him, pulling him up off the couch. Cas stands, but his knees buckles. Dean catches him before he falls, picks him up bridal style and carries him to the bed. Cas' body curls up as coughs shake him. "Easy. Shallow breaths, slowly"

As Castiel's coughing slows, Dean moves away from the bed.

"Get some sleep. I'll make... I dunno, tea or something."

"Angels don't sleep," Cas replies weakly.

"Well, you do," Dean replies, pushing gently at Cas' shoulders. Cas leans back against the pillows, watching Dean move around the kitchenette until his eyes slip shut.

* * *

><p>When Cas' eyes open, he is laying down in the bed, blankets covering him. There is a glass of water on the table next to the bed. Cas grabs it and takes a sip.<p>

"Better?" Dean asks. He's leaning against the counter, watching Cas.

"Were you watching me sleep?"

"Yeah, don't really see the appeal."

Castiel starts to get up.

"Hey, why don't you take it easy?" Dean suggests.

"No, I need to get up," Cas insists stubbornly. Dean rolls his eyes.

"Alright, then, Do you want to help me?"

"What are you doing?"

"I'm going to make a devil's food cake. I feel like being ironic today."

"Why are you making a cake?" Cas asks, joining Dean.

"Because I felt like it."

"What can I do?"

"Grab the eggs from the fridge," Dean tells him, opening a bag of sugar and pouring it into a measuring cup.

"Did you go to the store?" Cas asks.

"Demon, Cas," Dean remind him, eyes flickering black. "Put eggs in the bowl."

Cas begins removing eggs from the carton.

"How many?"

"Two," Dean tells him, eyes on the sugar, which he pours into another bowl.

"Here you go, Dean," Cas says, handing him the bowl with two eggs in it. Two _whole_ eggs. Dean bursts out laughing.

"You have to _crack_ the eggs, Cas."

"Oh," Cas replies. He lifts the eggs out of the bowl and crushes one in his hand. He drops the runny ooze, shell and all, back into the bowl.

Dean sighs affectionately.

"Here, measure out some flour. _I'll_ deal with the eggs," Dean tells him, trading places. Cas watches Dean crack the eggs and dump the insides into a bowl with practiced ease. "See something you like?" Dean teases, glancing up and seeing Cas watching him. Castiel turns back to the measuring cup. He opens the bag labelled flour and upends it into the cup, dumping the entire bag into the cup and onto the counter.

"Whoa, Cas, what the Hell?" Dean exclaims, moving over and grabbing the bag. The bag is only half-empty, and Dean's sudden movement flings flour across the kitchen and the two of them. Dean and Cas stare at each other as the flour begins to settle.

"You told me to measure flour. You didn't tell me how much," Cas tells him.

"Oh, Jesus," Dean sighs. Suddenly, he glances at Cas, who is covered in a light dusting of flour and chuckles.

"What?" Cas asks irritably.

"You're _covered_ in flour. It looks like snow," Dean tells him, laughing. "You're a snow angel."

"I do not understand why this is so funny."

"I don't know. It's just funny, Cas," Dean says, dusting flour off of Cas' nose. "Boop."

Cas smiles at that, brushing flour from Dean's hair, purposely messing it up a little. Dean ducks away, laughing, grabbing a handful of flour off the counter and tossing it at Cas. It flutters harmlessly to the ground in front of him.

Quickly, the baking experiment dissolves into a food fight, eggs, sugar, and flour flying dangerously. Dean and Cas are filthy when they stop, laughing, ribs aching from laughing so hard.

They lean against the counter, catching their breath.

Dean glances at the kitchenette.

"Oops."

"What?"

"The kitchen is a mess," Dean remarks. "Oh, well," he shrugs, snapping his fingers and cleaning it.

"What will you do about your cake?" Cas asks.

"I wasn't going to eat it anyway."

Cas sighs.

"I have to shower."

Dean nods, laughing.

"I'll head out then."

"You'll come back, though? Won't you?" Cas asks.

"Sure, Cas. Of course I will."

"Good," Cas replies. He wipes some flour off of Dean's cheek and places a gently kiss there. "See you then."


End file.
